Remember Me
by Aratar
Summary: How does one describe the battle of five armies? What words could ever do justice to the true nature of that battle?- But more importantly, how in Mahal does one describe what it's like to live on afterwards? Each and every dwarf has their own tale to tell after they regained their homeland. Follow their struggle to rebuild Erebor and to make it through the darkness that follows.


**. .**

_- Farewell to the Past-_

_Strength. Ferocity. Loyalty_. All the things a warrior was made of. All of the things that folk had described Dwalin as throughout his life. Though he didn't feel that he merited any of those compliments now. Not as he stood with his head bowed in the shadow of three great menhirs that stood on the large mound where all of Erebor could behold them. Three great upright stones that marked where three great dwarves had fallen alongside countless others in battle. Three great menhirs that shouldn't belong there.

Dwalin wanted to close his eyes, to block out the harsh glare of the red sun that bled over the landscape and coloured the mound a sickening blood red that threatened to break through the warrior's solemn and stern composure. But he could not close his eyes._ No_. For he feared that what he would be confronted with in his own mind would be far worse than anything on this earth.

By all rights, Dwalin shouldn't even be here. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. He had sworn to protect his King until the bitter end. It was Dwalin who should have been buried under the stone. Not him._ Not Thorin_. And not the wee ones, young masters Fíli and Kíli. Dwalin had failed his duty to his King and his heirs. Yet this was far worse than merely failing his King, this was far more painful. Thorin had not just been a King in the eyes of Dwalin; they had been dear friends, brothers-in-arm, comrades, destined to fight side-by-side until the end of all days. Dwalin had betrayed his friend, his trust, his oath.

Beside Dwalin, there were 14 more who had chosen to remain by the three graves until the sun had set and the light of the day had all but vanished. Those that still stood now were closest and most loyal to the fallen King and his nephews. It was those who would not be able to sleep peacefully tonight, who stood now. Those who would never forget. The ten dwarves of Thorin's company were all present, each of them present for their own personal reasons, but they were united in their grief for the tragic loss. With them was Dís, who now mourned for the last remaining members of her family that she had lost. Most of all she wept for her two sons. The young, willful, energetic heirs of Durin- who had left the world as they had journeyed through it: Together. And last of all, there was Dáin and his two children.

Together they stood by. Together they watched as the last of the light shone behind the tombs and together they stood in the darkness that followed. Dwalin was the first of the dwarves to take their leave. His movement was slow and heavy, as if the warrior bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. All the same, he dragged himself away from the scene. He couldn't do it any more. He could not stare a second longer at Thorin's name carefully engraved in the stone. Nor could he bare the sight of Fíli's daggers and Kíli's bow laid carefully at the foot of the great stones. As he walked away, he didn't so much as glance behind him to see what the others thought of his actions or to see what they were doing themselves. Though he knew Balin well enough to know that his brother would come after him eventually.

Eventually seemed to come a lifetime later.

All was silent in the halls of Master Dwalin that evening. And that silence was only broken, as Balin entered to check on his younger brother. It had always been the elder brother's duty to care and protect his younger brother. Even now. Even at this age, Balin not only wanted- but he needed his brother to know that he would never be alone in this world.

Balin said nothing, but he moved slowly to stand by the solitary, hunched figure sat on a chair, which had been positioned to face away from the door. Dwalin listened as his brother approached and he felt his brother's hand rest itself on his back. In response to the physical contact, the large dwarf rose slowly and turned to face his brother. He had nothing to say. What could he say at a time like this?

Balin understood. Dwalin knew that he always did and always would understand him. It was what brothers were for. And Balin, knowing his brother, did not attempt to make conversation or get Dwalin to open up through conversation. Instead, he held Dwalin in his arms. Despite his age, his short stature and his comparative lack of strength in contrast to his younger brother, there was no time that Dwalin felt safer than with his brother's arms holding him.

And as Dwalin slowly moved his own arms to return his brother's embrace, memories flashed before his eyes of all the times Balin had been there for him. Memories that seemed to be from a lifetime ago- but that were the most precious and the brightest of all memories that Dwalin had. He remembered how his brother had found him and carried him all the way home after Dwalin had lost his way in the woods that night. He remembered how Balin had stepped in to scare away the older dwarflings who had teased Dwalin for not being as quick to understand in lessons. How Balin had stayed up all night with his brother after he had received a heavy blow in his first fight to make sure he was all right. Balin had held him up all those times and had never let Dwalin fall, and he wasn't going to let his younger brother down now.

As Dwalin looked to his brother now, with sorrowful eyes and a desperate expression, he wrapped his arms around his brother. And he fiercely returned the embrace as his outside walls came crashing down with the wave of memories. He clung to Balin tightly with desperation as he felt his strong, tough façade disappear entirely. He felt exposed, he had never let his true emotions since such a tender age. And all of a sudden he began shaking with silent sobs as he can no longer reign it all in any more. But Balin was there to support him. And Balin let Dwalin lean against him for as long as he needed.

It could have been seconds or years that the two remained like that before Dwalin pulled away from his brother and looked at him, needing the strength and constance from his brother's gaze to inspire him. He needed Balin to tell him that everything was all right.

"You did all you could. You cannot blame yourself for what happened, brother. It was too fast for any of us to react." Balin finally spoke, his voice soft and trembled ever so slightly as he said the words.

"He was a _brother _to us- we should have-"

"We brought him home. We did him proud, Dwalin. He would want us to continue. He would have wanted us to help rebuild our home. To help Dáin-" Balin interrupted before his brother could finish his sentence. Dwalin nodded solemnly at Balin's words and decided to stop the conversation there.

For the first time in one hundred and thirty years, the spare bed in Dwalin's room was not empty and the two brothers slept together to help one another through the night. Both knew that it would be no easy or simple task to give themselves up to their subconscious. Dwalin dreaded what awaited him in his sleep, of what horrors he might have to relive that night. Though he did not dare go to Óin for a dreamless sleeping draught. He would have to face his worst fears eventually. So instead, he drew strength from Balin's words and eventually let sleep take him.

_Dwalin felt the wind whip at his face as he leapt over the undergrowth in the thick forest under Ered Luin. He was grinning widely and had to surpress a hearty laugh as he charged forwards, dropping all attempts to stay quiet as he heard his brother work his way through the numbers and he neared thirty all too quickly. By his side, he caught glimpses of the long, wild, dark hair that belonged to Thorin out of the corner of his eyes. The dwarf prince was 30 years his elder, but all the same, with the bond that they shared, one might have mistaken the young prince for a third son of Fundin. They had grown very fond of one another and along with Balin, the three were inseparable. They trained, fought, ate, drank and played together. They even fancied themselves a heroic trio, destined for greatness and they would often venture into the woods and pretend to be hunting down smelly orcs or even fat trolls._

_Balin finally reached thirty, and simultaneously young Dwalin felt Thorin grab his shirt and he pulled the younger dwarf down with him so that the two were hidden from Balin's sight under a fallen log. Dwalin felt a childish urge to giggle as they waited for Balin to approach and he bore a silly-looking grin on his face in his attempt to suppress the laugh. Immediately understanding what was running through Dwalin's mind, Thorin gave him a cheeky grin and did his best impression of Balin in an attempt to make the younger dwarf lose his concentration and burst out laughing. After all, Thorin had far more stealth than wee Dwalin could ever hope for and knew that he should Balin detect them, Thorin could easily slip away but not Dwalin. Though it would take more than that for Dwalin to give away his position to his brother._

_His surroundings started to evolve, and Dwalin found that he was no longer a young dwarfling of ten, but a fully-grown dwarf. He and Thorin had not changed position and were still crouched behind a fallen tree. Only there was an extra little dwarfling hiding with them. A wee dwarfling of only ten years of age, with wild dark hair that reached his shoulders and dark eyes, brimming with untamed energy and excitement. A young dwarfling that looked exactly like his uncle when he had been that age, young master Kíli._

_From afar they heard Balin and a wee Fee furrow through the forest searching for them. Dwalin and Thorin both had to control their laughter as they watched young Kíli give them his best impression of Balin. Eventually, the gold-haired dwarfling and Balin, began to near the hiding spot of the three, and so they crept through the jungle to get away. Thorin and Kíli split away from Dwalin at that stage, leaving the young warrior alone as he tried to sneak around Balin and Fíli. But a sudden flash of gold was all the time he had to react before he took note of Dís' laddie clinging on to his back and trying to wrestle him to the ground. Dwalin feigned his surrender and fell to the ground in a very overly-dramatic manner._

_"You sound like an oliphant when you're trying to be stealthy, mister Dwalin." Fíli exclaimed triumphantly as he sat proudly on the fallen Dwalin._

_"Not to forget he breathes like a Warg." Balin added as he came into view and gave his brother a grin._

_"Well it seems you've caught me," Dwalin said and let his hands fall limp to his side, confirming to the wee dwarfling that he had given in. But as he heard a distinct sound- a series of hoots to be exact; twice like a barn owl and once like a screech owl, a smile played on his lips. Before Fíli knew what was coming, little Kíli suddenly pounced on his brother and tackled him to the ground._

_Thorin's deep chuckle could be heard as he stepped out of the bushes to join the group. He had always used bird calls with Dwalin and Balin when they were younger to signal to one another and in particular, signalling surprise attacks. It had never failed them then and they obviously hadn't lost their touch just yet._

_Dwalin chuckled a deep and hearty laugh as he pulled young Kíli off his brother, and as Thorin and Balin held Fíli's hands, they made their way home. It was coming up to their bed time now, and with Dís returning this eve, it was essentially that they gave the wee ones a bath before their mother could see the state of them._

_But all too quickly, Kíli slipped free of Dwalin's hand as did Fíli and the two were running off on their own. Dwalin, Balin and Thorin all chasing after them, calling for them to come back at the top of their lungs. And now the trees began to disappear and the dwarves found themselves, not in Ered Luin but under the shadow of the Lonely Mountain instead. In a battle of five armies. A wave of orcs suddenly hit them, separating Dwalin and Balin from the three heirs of Durin. The two older brothers began swinging at countless Orcs, fighting them off ferociously as the orcs continuously came at them. Dwalin tried to locate the other three but amidst all the chaos, he couldn't see anything._

_"THORIN!" _

_Dwalin heard the cry and recognised it as Kíli's. His head snapped around instantaneously in the direction that the cry had come from. Where was he? Dwalin thought furiously just before he caught a glimpse of what Kíli had seen. He saw his King, his friend and companion falter as a large mace hit him with brutal force from behind._

_"NO!" Dwalin heard himself cry and swung his war hammers at the Orcs with terrifying strength and determination, sending them flying as the devastated dwarf tried to clear a path between him and Thorin. But no matter how many orcs he slew, twice as many seemed to appear to take the place of the fallen orcs. Making his intention of reaching Thorin quasi impossible._

_Frantically he tried to keep an eye on Thorin whilst simultaneously beating and thrashing at the orcs before him, determined not to lose sight of Thorin. Fíli and Kíli had both flocked to their Uncle's side and were fighting off the oncoming orcs to protect their uncle. Dwalin continued to struggle with all his might, but he was hardly making enough progress to reach his King any time soon._

_And then came the sound of a cry that would never leave Dwalin's memory. It was a raw and broken cry. It was a horrible sound, a sound of pure terror and fear. It was the sound that escaped from Fíli's lips as he saw an orcish arrow lodge itself in his brother's chest. It all seemed to be happening in slow motion for Dwalin. Kíli staggered. He fell to the ground as three more arrows buried themselves deep in his chest. Fíli became shaky with distress, furiously and savagely slashing at everything that stood in his way so that he could reach his brother. Fíli was repeatedly screaming his brother's name, his voice hoarse as he turned his back to go to his brother's side._

_"FÍLI!" Dwalin called at the top of his lungs to warn the young dwarf of the orc that took advantage of the dwarf's vulnerable position to lunge forwards. But it was too late. And right before his eyes, he saw the gold-haired prince impaled on the rusty blade that the orc carried. And as Dwalin cried out, fighting off the orcs swarming around him with a strength and a ferocity that could not be matched, he saw the look in Fíli's eyes as he fell to the ground. It was one of fear, longing for comfort. It was the same panicked look he had when he had curled up with Dwalin during a thunderstorm when he was but a little dwarfling. That same look of dread. And then as the princeling crumpled to the floor in a lifeless pile, he fell from Dwalin's view._

_The commotion must have drawn the other dwarves because Dwalin found that Nori and Bifur were suddenly beside Dwalin and Balin and the four of them fought their way through the sea of orcs and finally made their way to Thorin, Fíli and Kíli. Fíli was no longer moving, the bright-red blood spilling out all over the rocky surface. Kíli weakly struggled as he dragged himself towards his brother, tears streaming from his red eyes and mingling with blood further on his cheek. He made a sick sound in his throat, wanting to say his brother's name but being unable to pronounce anything. Dwalin saw the look of desperation in Kíli's eyes as his brother didn't stir, Kíli forgot his wounds. He couldn't feel, hear or see anything other than the lifeless body of his brother on the ground, for there was no more painful sight or feeling than being left alone in the world. Seeing your brother slip away before your eyes was no sight that any dwarf should have to see._

_The sight was almost too much for Dwalin to take and he fended off the orcs for as long as he could, using his grief and anger to give himself the strength he needed to fight such an overwhelming force. Dwalin saw Nori kneel by Kíli's side out of the corner of his eyes, but was soon distracted by two orcs who raised their blades simultaneously too take down Dwalin. Dwalin parried their attack and held it, gritting his teeth as he struggled to hold them. Though he heard the faint, ragged sputter of Kíli behind him._

_"'No- where's Fee- He c-can't leave- No- Fee wake up- please. Please. Fee- don't- y-you can't leave me. W-" Kíli's voice was pleading and the tears whelmed up in his eyes. Just the sound of his voice was heart-wrenching and Dwalin mustered the all the strength he could to throw the two attacking orcs off balance, and with terrifyingly loud roar, Dwalin sent his hammer straight into their faces and with a deafening crunch, they joined the dead vermin. Dwalin looked behind him again, he saw Kíli's heavy breathing slow until it ceased completely. And there he lay, riddled with arrows, with his hand in Fíli's and his head resting on his brother's chest. Nori, stood with a grave and sincere look on his face. They were gone._

_No. No- no- They couldn't be gone- No. Not Fee and Kee. Not the wee dwarflings that Dwalin had helped raise. Not the young, hopeful dwarflings he had spent so much time with. Not them. They couldn't be-_

Dwalin suddenly awoke, with cold sweat dripping off his brow. He turned to see Balin wide awake in his own bed. The two brothers exchanged a glance, both knowing what the other had dreamt of.

"It's going to be a long night" Balin whispered in an emotionless tone as he looked down at his own hands and closed his eyes shut in sorrow.

**A/N: Okay so thank you so much for making it this far! This was the first chapter of my story, which basically sets the mood right after the Battle of Five Armies. The next chapters will revolve more around the struggle to rule and rebuild Erebor in the years to come. Please comment on what you enjoyed and what I could have done better, it means a lot to hear what you all think! I'm also happy to answer any questions, should you have any.**

**-Aratar**


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